


Exhibitionism in Doomworld

by dragonspell



Series: Legends of Super Flarrow Kink Meme Fills [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Episode: s02e16 Doomworld, Exhibitionism, M/M, Molestation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 04:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10505958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: Written forprompt 93on the Legends of Super Flarrow Kinkmeme: Coldwave, exhibitionism in front of the cops in doomworld ;) some perks to owning half the city.Please heed the tags: This has some dub-con and molestation in the beginning (Mick's angry with Len and Len doesn't like being manhandled in public).





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I actually wrote 2 fics for this prompt? This is the longer and darker one. Also, it's the first one that I wrote but, while it is where the prompt first took me, I didn't think it was quite aligning to what I believed the prompter wanted, so I wrote the second version.

Len swings his cold gun around, telling everyone to “Freeze or be frozen.” He smirks, proud of his pun and watches as the room drops to its knees, hands above their heads. He’s in his element, putting on a grand show.

Mick doesn’t realize just how much of a show it is until they get outside and he realizes that the amassed cops aren’t going to arrest them. After all, why bother? Len owns the bank. He’s only stealing from _himself_. Mick hadn’t even noticed when they’d walked in but now he’s cursing himself for being so stupid. 

“What’s the point?” Mick growls. What’s the point of robbing a bank that you own? What’s the point of stealing from yourself? And, for that matter, what’s the point of stealing at all if all of the money in the entire damn city is Len’s anyway? Len had told Mick that nothing was going to change, that it was all going to be the same as it was back before the Spear, before The Flash, before _heroes_ , but it’s _all_ changed. Nothing is the same and Len just calmly walking past the goddamned cops proves that.

Len smirks. “We can do whatever we want,” he says. “Think about it. You can take whatever you desire with no repercussions.” There’s no repercussions because Len already owns it and who’s going to arrest a guy for stealing his own stuff? They’re not thieves anymore, they’re _movers_. With a side of B-list actor putting on a show for the masses.

“Yeah?” Mick growls, angry that Len’s been dragging him through some elaborate game—one big fucking game to keep himself amused and once again, Mick’s nothing but a pawn, doing exactly what’s expected of him with no say in the matter. Mick grabs Len’s upper arm and swings him around, slamming him against the hard brick wall. “What about this?” He rips Len’s goggles down off his face.

Len stares at him, brows drawing down like he’s angry, but Mick can see the tiny bit of fear that he’s trying to hide. “Mick…”

Mick kisses him, hard and demanding. Len tries to pull away, but with the wall behind him, there’s nowhere to go. His hands scrabble on Mick’s shoulders, digging in the heels of his palms as he tries to push Mick away. Mick tightens his grip and presses harder against Len, caging him in even more. He seizes Len’s face, fingers digging on either side to force Len’s mouth open so that he can push his tongue inside. Len struggles, fighting the hold until Mick finally lets him turn his head away and break the kiss.

Len takes a few deep breaths, steadying himself, before his eyes finally come back to Mick. “What’s gotten into you?” Len snarls. He glances around, looking to see if anyone is watching. Mick is sure that they are.

“You said that I could take whatever I want.” Mick shoves his hand into Len’s pants, the waistband tightening painfully as it inches over his forearm. Len hisses and tries to twist himself away, but Mick’s already attached. Like with the wall, there’s no escape. Mick slides his fingers over Len’s trapped cock, stroking him firm and slow. “What if this is what I want?”

Len turns his head back to face Mick dead on again, evidence of the wheels spinning in his head with the tightening of his face and the narrowing of his eyes. He’s actually considering Mick’s words and Mick doesn’t know how he feels about that. In another life, this would be the part where Len would deck him and tell him to keep his hands to himself or lose them. That’s what Mick’s expecting, but instead he gets Len actually fucking thinking about letting Mick molest him in public. _Nothing’s_ the same.

“Mr. Snart?” a cop behind them asks.

“Go away,” Len snaps, still staring at Mick.

“Stay,” Mick growls in return. He wants an audience for this. Just them alone, it’s too easy for Len to forget what it is that he’s offering, what he’s agreeing to. He moves his fingers over Len’s cock again and Len’s jaw firms. “Wha’d’ya say, Len? You going to let me do this in front of them?”

Len’s nostrils flare. “Is this what you want?” he asks.

It’s his normal shtick, avoiding answering the question by asking another question and Mick’s inner rage burns a little hotter. “To have them watch you get fucked?” Mick spins Len around to put his face against the wall. He uses the hand down Len’s pants to push Len backwards, forcing his ass back against Mick’s cock. “Sure,” Mick rumbles. “Why not?”

“Then do it,” Len says flatly. He braces an arm against the wall and pushes his face into the crook. His entire body is tense and it’s clear as day that he doesn’t want this but he’s going to let Mick do it anyway. _Why?_

“Have the cops stand there and watch?” Mick asks him, reminding him of the full reality of the situation. “Think they’ll do it?” Len doesn’t answer and Mick kicks his legs apart. “You own half the city, so why not?”

“ _We_ own half the city,” Len corrects, like that’s the only part of this that he objects to.

“Oh, _we_ own half the city.” Mick undoes Len’s jeans and pushes his hand in farther, curving it around and under to press a finger against Len’s hole. Len grunts and spreads his legs a little wider, but otherwise stays in place. Mick growls. “What if I wanted to watch? Watch one of them fuck you? Would that be okay too?” When Len says nothing, Mick pushes a finger inside of him. “How about I call all of them over right now?”

Len slams an elbow into Mick’s gut and follows it with a solid hit to Mick’s jaw. “You son of a bitch,” Len snarls. Mick stumbles away, cradling his blossoming bruise and Len follows him, uncaring that his pants are still undone. “Don’t you _get_ it? This is for _you_! You’re the one that wanted to rob a bank so we did! What do you _want_ , Mick?”

“You!” Mick shouts back. “Us!”

Len rears back. “I’m here. _We’re_ here.”

“This...” Mick points his fingers to the both of them and then to the bank that Len can’t rob because he owns it. “This isn’t us.” Len stares at him, seemingly out of words at the moment. “This is some goddamned _game_ that you have us playing pretending that it’s us.” He nods at Len’s open jeans and the few cops that are still hanging around, more curiosity than sense. “The real you would have punched me the moment I started getting handsy when you didn’t want me to.”

Len crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, sealing himself off. “You said that you wanted it.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I want what you want, Mick.”

“Stop fucking with me,” Mick growls.

“I’m _not_.” Len reaches out and grabs a hold of Mick’s coat, using it to drag him closer. 

“Then what are you doing?”

Instead of answering, Len kisses him, a hard, firm press of his lips. Fury makes Mick return it roughly, teeth biting at Len’s lower lip. Len accepts it, but tries to temper Mick’s violence with soft, soothing touches that run along his face and slide to his neck. The steady, calm assault works, blunting Mick’s anger, draining it until there’s little but a desire to keep his mouth connected to Len’s. It’s a trick that Len’s used before and Mick recognizes it for what it is, but he’s too conditioned to respond to ignore it. Mick’s hands settle on Len’s hips and Len softens the kiss into a gentle, barely there caress. Len slowly starts to pull away and Mick chases his lips, blindly staggering forward. Len rewards him with another kiss and then steps back, putting himself back against the wall. 

And Mick’s hard, so damn hard. Len’s eyes are on him, his chin up, daring Mick to come closer and try to take again. It’s not an invitation, but a challenge, and Mick’s reminded of how he and Len used to be, back when everything was a fight for survival, back when things mattered. He wants that.

Off to the side, a few cops are chatting about a restaurant down the road, loud laughter rolling across the street. Damned distracting. Mick pulls his gun. “Mick,” Len says warningly.

“I know.” _We don’t kill cops._ Follow it with a bad pun about the heat. Mick can hear it in his head without Len even saying it. He’s not going to kill the pigs, though, just get him and Len some space. “Get lost!” Mick yells at them and the cops jump. They stare at him for a second before dashing for the cars, none of them wanting to mess with what’s probably the largest financial supporter of the Central City PD. 

Len smirks at him. “Was that fun?”

“It’s boring,” Mick snorts. He doesn’t like having the cops run when he barks. He much rather have to show them his teeth and fight.

Len shrugs. “I could help with that.”

“What, you’ll plan another fake bank robbery?” Len’s smirk falters. Evidently he’d been hoping that a few kisses would make Mick forget his little show. Mick’s not that dumb.

“No. That wasn’t the right approach. I get that.”

“Right approach?” Mick’s eyes narrow at the language. “You trying to ‘manage’ me, Len?”

Len clenches his fists, betraying his frustration, but then releases them. “No.”

“Because that’s what it seems like.”

“I’m _trying_ to make you happy,” Len snaps.

“Oh?” Mick tilts his head, caught by Len’s confession. “Why’s that?”

“You said you were bored.”

“So you planned a fake bank robbery to make me not so bored,” Mick finishes for him.

“Which was obviously a bad idea,” Len says impatiently, obviously wanting to move on.

“So you admit it.”

“Yes,” Len hisses. “So why don’t you come here?”

Mick regards him suspiciously. “Why?” Len levels him a look that plainly states how dumb he thinks Mick is being right now.

“I want to help you with your little ‘problem.’” Len gestures towards Mick’s crotch.

Oh. Mick glances downward. “It’s not so little.”

“I know.” Len’s lips quirk into another smile. “Now how about you get over here and remind me how big it is?” As offers go, Mick’s dick is more than ready to say yes. It had been starting to flag but it’s picking right back up, begging him to take Len up on his suggestion. Mick’s half-tempted to give in to its pleas.

“So you can make me…happy?” Mick raises his eyebrows skeptically.

Len huffs in frustration. “Fine. Let’s go then.” He rebuttons his pants and pushes himself away from the wall to storms past Mick. Mick catches Len’s upper arm again but this time, instead of passively accepting it, Len pulls away with a snarl. “What?”

Mick can’t help it. He’s always been attracted to fire. He caves like a structurally unsound building in a bonfire. “Okay.”

Len’s brow wrinkles. “Okay?” 

“Mmm,” Mick rumbles and pulls Len in for a kiss. There’s nothing gentle about Len, this time. He bites Mick’s lip in punishment, then thrusts his tongue into Mick’s mouth, taking control. Mick growls, bracing himself when Len forces him backward and meets Len’s new found fire with his own.

Len breathes harshly through his nose and changes the angle of the kiss before he wraps his fingers in Mick’s belt loops and jerks him off balance, the waistband of Mick’s jeans digging into his back. Mick didn’t accept Len’s offer when it was given and now Len’s going to punish him for it. 

Mick likes it. 

He groans when Len shoves a hand down the front of his jeans and roughly grabs. Len’s grip is brutal as he roughly tugs on Mick’s cock, dragging the head against the inside of Mick’s jeans and Mick drops his head to Len’s shoulder trying to center himself. He’s not going to last long like this, with Len smoldering in front of him and his cock being worked with such ruthless efficiency. He slides his own hand back into Len’s pants, unbuttoning them again so that he can stroke in counterpoint to Len’s hard rhythm. He’s gentler than Len, but nothing that could be called soft, too excited to take it easy. Behind him, he can still hear the sounds of the city, cars passing and a distant siren, and it only makes him hotter to realize that they’re doing this standing out in full view. That _Len’s_ letting this happen—making this happen.

“Fuck,” Mick pants. “ _Fuck_.”

“Come on, you bastard,” Len mutters. “Are you going to come or not?”

Yeah. Yeah, Mick is. He slams his hips forward, his body tightening and his orgasm wrenches out of him, twisting him sideways. Len follows, hand still roughly jerking him as Mick pants and snarls and shudders through the pleasure rocketing along his nerves. Spilling in his pants, it’s not long until Mick’s made a mess, his jeans hot and sticky and gross. Mick’s upper lip curls. He tries to move away but Len follows him again, still stroking Mick’s spent cock. Mick chokes as the lingering pleasure starts to verge into pain. “Len…” He clutches Len’s arm, wrapping his fingers around Len’s wrist. “Lenny…”

Mick sags as Len finally releases him, his forehead resting against the soft weave of Len’s coat. A shudder runs through him and he sighs. Len lets him lean for a few moments before he drawls, “Feel better?”

Mick opens his eyes, staring at the sidewalk beneath their feet before he straightens. “Yeah,” he says. There’s a pleasant satisfaction stretching through his muscles, the lingering remains of a good fuck. He stretches and sighs again.

“Your jeans are a loss.” Mick grimaces. Yeah, he won’t argue with that point. He zips himself back up and adjusts his jeans as best as he’s able. There’s no avoiding the jizz, though. He’s going to have to deal with it until he can get another pair. Still, he thinks that it might have been worth it, even if Len makes him walk back to the penthouse they’ve been crashing in.

“It was good, though.”

Len shakes his head. “You always did have a thing for getting off in public, Mick.”

“Yeah.” Mick’s not going to argue with that either. There’s something about it that makes it more exciting—the risk of getting caught, maybe. Not that there’s any risk here, what with Len having nearly the entire CCPD on his payroll, but same difference. 

Len zips his pants and straightens his coat, returning himself back to his ‘Captain Cold’ setting, erasing the evidence of the man who had just jerked Mick off in front of an occupied bank. Mick glances at Len’s still hard cock, hidden behind his fly again. “You don’t want a turn?”

“Oh, I want a turn,” Len says, “but I’m going to wait until we get back home.” He smirks at Mick. “I’m going to have you on your knees.”

Mick thinks about that for a few seconds and then nods, finding the thought pretty okay in his book. “Fine by me.”

“Good,” Len purrs. “Let’s go.”


End file.
